About Buck Huff

Airport stories may seem like old news to you but this is my story so listen up.

A friend’s flight was stopping over in Phoenix the other night, 45 minutes or so on the ground and then on to the coast. Being close to the airport, it was a great opportunity to see a predominantly “internet friend” in the flesh. Now I dislike airports, always have, not sure anybody ever says “Oh Boy! Trip to the airport!” It’s just one of those things you endure like dentists and somebody’s new girlfriend who dissaproves of all his buddies “habits.”

The new security at Sky Harbor Airport begins at the entrance, where you are stopped half-heartedly by three people who couldn’t be more bored, and will occaisonally jazz things up by stopping the random Joe for a more thourough search. Guess they thought my name was Joe. The Man in the group shone a flashlight inside my vehicle and ordered me to pop the trunk. Stepping to the back of the car, he shone the light again, never looking in any of the boxes or tool buckets, and never coming near the secret compartment big enough to hold two one gallon gas cans. He then opened up the other doors loudly and with much brute force, the flashlight beam bouncing off another 1001 places which could have hidden anything from a cigarette pack sized bundle of Kaboom electronics to a thousand sticks of dynamite. Not that I actually had any contraband, there wasn’t an illegal thing in my vehicle, but that’s not the point. There *could* have been, and unless this guy had a magick flashlight beam that turns red when it illuminates terrorist booty he might as well have stayed in his lawn chair and waved me through. What the hell was the point?

Inside an ad hoc security checkpoint was set up before you get to the terminal gates, ticketed passengers only may enter. This seemed to make some sense and might actually set up a barrier of defense to stop some bastard out to sabotage a flight.

All the time announcements would blast “Do Not Leave your Luggage unattended, it will be confiscated, you will be fined”. Airport security and employees walked around with grim faces, serious faces. They were on the watch, they were watching YOU, Mr or Mrs Terrorist. I made a mental note to not make any jokes about drunken airline pilots after the America West incident where a fool cracked wise and was detained and charged by America West and the cops were still trying to think of what to charge.

So I sat and waited for my friend to arrive and watched as people were entering the gates with their tickets. Just show your ticket, that’s all. Go through the usual metal detector which would have been the third level of security check and by the looks of how they were doing they pretty much figured the first and second team would have caught anything. It was utterly, sadly, useless.

It’s all for show. The emphasis isn’t on keeping you safe, its about making you feel safe.

Now I’m not saying let’s not have security measures. Hell yes, let’s find out who is getting on the flight with what, but let’s do it! Let’s goddamn do it! Don’t just shine a flashlight on me and let me enter with a wave of a piece of paper, search me you lazy bastards! If you are going to waste my time then I want to have a torn apart van and sore rectum for a week. Screw civil liberties, this is war isn’t it?

Americans understand, they are for the War in Afghanistan, Iraq, hell, anywhere the government says they want to “save” a country, the Americans are eager as can be.

Patriotism, USA, USA, We’re Number One, Honk if you want WAR! Hell yes, if we want war then we are willing to protect our Uncle Sam stained soil and bend over for whatever it takes to keep the red, white, and blue waving proudly over this land!

Search every last mofo that passes through the airport, and I mean that guy in wheelchair who got a waiver to go through the gate! Are you kidding me? You mean if I’m in a wheelchair, even with a bomb strapped underneath and wired for laser beam blasts I can just roll on through if I have a waiver? Do you really think a terrorist is not wise to the ways of the airports? Homeland Security. It is an utter waste of time for the already law-abiding citizen. The nutjob with a mission would have this figured out quicker than me and I don’t even jaywalk, much less plot to do harm.

“June 29 — Federal authorities have issued a secret alert to state and local law enforcement agencies warning them of the possibility of a terrorist attack in the United States around the Fourth of July holiday, senior government officials said.”
-New York Times, National Section

Phoenix, AZ July 2002

An extended stay in Phoenix during the summertime.

It’s a fair question and one I’ve asked myself quite a few times in the last weeks of my 111 average degree stay. hokey, Toronto is 100 degrees on a Sunday afternoon, that’s just one place that shouldn’t be, look around on the weather channel, where would you go? Fireworks. We’re still close to the mexican border, fireworks are plentiful.

“But Buck, fireworks are illegal in Arizona.”

You don’t say? Well, the guns aren’t. I’ve got a concealed weapons permit and a load of ammo set to go off should the terrorists decide to jump into action.

Except they wont. Why should they? All they have to do is sit back and let the media do the terror for them. Every top government official has issued irresponsible statements of “terror coming to your town. Terror coming to our shores”. Don’t that make your astral nads shrivel? This fourth of july is just about an open invitation for someone to strap on some half-sticks and light the fuse for Allah. Headlines goading the faithful into a reverent gut oozing puddle. Or just some homegrown nutcase who let’s the voices take over. The voices are probably coming from the television newscast or the 18 hour Chuck Norris-a-thon on USA network.

Who needs terrorists when you got Beavis in the Woods?

good god. Colorado and Arizona scorched, burned, altered forever in the recent fires. Dreadful damage, lives of pets and people put in the balance. and it goes back to folks that were actually a part of the services keeping us safe from fire.

The stories are sketchy on two fire causes. The one for Chediski in Northern Arizona was admittedly started by a man who was lost in the forest and he was signalling for help by lighting a fire. I’d like to personally beat that snivelling pussy to a pulp. Any four hour survivalist training tape would have showed him all he needed to know about getting around in the forest. There is no reason why every single american shouldn’t have this information.
The Colorado fire was started by a forest ranger gal who’s story changes with the telling. The most told though is that she recieved a letter from her ex-husband that so enraged her she had to set fire to it. Fair enough, my three ex-wives could have that same effect on me and there are more than a few bullet holes in the side of my barn after having to deal with one of them.

But lady, you were in charge of your section of forest, you knew the fire danger level was at the highest alert, such a high alert that even the average citizen was being warned by emails, news bulletins, weather channels, local fire depts. The information was everywhere and I know it was it even more so for you not to mention you had extensive training and experience in your field. That you were so furious with your ex-husband is understandable but your reckless disregard of nature and man is criminal. For what you are going to get sentenced for this fire you could have gone and killed the guy, maybe his new young, skinny, girlfriend (I’m speculating here) and still got less time for a crime of passion.
There is no crime of passion excuse when you’ve burned up and out animals, people, forests. Lost people their liveliehood to even attempt to make a comeback in their home area.
You do the maximum time, sister.

And speaking of Livelihood, Leonard from the Apache Resevation wanted to have one so bad that he started a fire so he could be called up in his volunteer fireman capacity. Told a lady he was talking to a fire was coming and he had to go home and wait for the call. Leonard said he didn’t know the fire would start so fast or so big. What kind of volunteer fireman wouldn’t know that? Volunteer Retard is what Leonard is. You get an indian who actually wants to get a job and this is what he does. Was the casino not hiring, Leonard? Bullshit.
You too should have the maximum sentence.

At the Command with God

The 4th of July will be a working day at the Alien Jesus Command. Re-doing the webpage, re-filling the beer cooler. All of us went down to Old Navy and bought our 4th of July t-shirts that we’ll be wearing. God Bless America. Can I say that anymore?

Sure I can say it, just not in a school or public building.

You may be suprised that I am in favor of dropping the God from our Pledge of Allegiance.

I don’t like what God means in this country. Falwell’s God, Pat Robertson’s God, Joseph McCarthey’s God. They all get up there (well not Joe, he burns in hell) and say the founding fathers would be rolling in their graves at this being left out.

No, no they wouldn’t. There was no pledge of allegiance during our founding father’s day. there was no flag either. The founding fathers didn’t want to pledge allegience to king or country, they were adamant about that. The pledge, the flag, the god, were all introduced a century after the founding fathers in much the same way that santa was introduced by Coca Cola and Mother’s Day was by Hallmark.

And talking about the “founding fathers” in such reverent tones. Read up on your history. They started this country so they wouldn’t have to pay taxes and debt to england, so they could sell their goods here at higher prices. It was a financial political move on their parts. Boston Tea Party? They burned the british tea because it was going to be sold cheaper than the tea they were selling, it would have wiped them out. It was for personal profit that this country was started. A tradition that is more evident than ever these days.

I wouldn’t want a God from the Founding Fathers even if they had introduced one. well they did, but it was secret masonic one eyed, three penis’d god. Put that on the flag you morons.

How could I NOT say yes to Ed’s invite of doing some investigative reporting? I got my snakeskin boots and headed north over the mexican border to meet up in Phoenix.

The drive was very pleasant despite 107 degree temps and air hazard warnings. The men and women at the security checkpoint just south of the Hoover damn were looking for nothing less than Osama himself in the sweltering conditions, and we glided by without even a full stop ’til we hit the strip and our luxury suite on the 22nd floor of the Aladdin Hotel.

The room was gorgeous and cool, room service was speedy and suprisingly delicious. A corner room that curved around in windows showing a full view of Las Vegas Blvd, even from the huge bathtub. Why did we have to go out? oh yeah, Kreskin. The UFOs. shit.

Tiredly, we forced ourselves back into the heat of a still 107 degrees at 9:30pm and headed off strip. Off, off strip to the Silverton Casino where Kreskin just happened to be wrapping up his engagement. There was alot of traffic and police were there with their flares and flashlights directing about a thousand locals doing burnouts and heaving beer bottles.
Kreskin had said UFOs would appear between 9:50pm and Midnight, and he would take people in busesout to the desert to witness it. “Out in the desert” really was a vacant lot in the back of the Silverton’s RV parking lot. We parked on the other side of the vacant lot by the luxury condos. Oh yeah, way out in the desert.

We turned on Art Bell and were just getting out our equipment for recording when a caller said that Kreskin had declared the event over with. We hadn’t even recorded the big billboard that said “Kreskin” “UFOS TONIGHT 7:30″ “Spagetti Dinner 1.99″ “R Slots R Hot”.

We figured with the surly local crowd being nuts to begin with, we needed to get out of there before they all heard the news of “over” and turned the dusty lot into a tornado. We headed back to the luxury room we didn’t want to leave in the first place. Over, just like that.

Now the thing is, had we any belief whatsoever that UFOs were going to show up we would have been as far away as possible. UFOs are nothing to fool with. Yes, I do believe in them, that’s exactly why I wouldn’t want anything to do with them. But the idea that this has-been quack playing at a RV Casino in Vegas was predicting UFOs was so tempting. He was putting up 50k to charity if there wasn’t the biggest mass sighting of UFOs, so what was the gimmick? We had to see. But we didn’t see anything but a few hundred 21st century beehives and naked girl mudflaps. Oh sure, there were things in the sky. The vacant lot sits under the very busy McCarren Airport’s flight path. Talk about a loaded dice scenario. Well, no need being too disappointed, this was Vegas, surely there was something to occupy us for the next 48 hours.

The Friday night following the “event”, Kreskin was on Art Bell’s show and rambled something about 9-11 and how terrorist deception could be used and he was merely demonstrating how you could hypnotize somebody to see a UFO. Frankly, after listening to the phone call a few times I’m not sure what he was saying, I don’t know what his intention was in the first place. The 50k is not being given to charity because Kreskin claimed people saw UFOs and whether they were real or hallucinated doesn’t matter. Art Bell was quite mad and banned Kreskin from the show.

I’m baffled. Was this stunt done for him personally? Was the Silverton Casino in on it? What did he hope to accomplish past having one sold out show? He had the ear of Art Bell, and love him or hate him the ratings are high, millions of listeners and Kreskin blew that on such a bullshit hoax that even Barnum himself would be ashamed. Banned from Bell (quite a huskter himself) , engagement at the RV park over with…where do you go from there, Mr Mentalist? shouldn’t you know? like really KNOW?

I guess the 50k Kreskin is keeping in his pocket really is going to charity.

John Pike, a specialist in space weapons and missile defense, said Bush appeared to be talking about “systems that don’t work to deal with threats that don’t exist.”

Dr Strangelove just got Stranger, and even more dangerous as the sinister chuckles flowed from Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld on Tuesday, May 8, announcing the United States would proceed with a Space War strategy. “Space Pearl Harbor” chuckle chuckle “no, we don’t know what it will be yet” chuckle chuckle. Put this footage into black and white and you could drop him into the film Dr Strangelove and easily convice people it was missing footage restored. Rumsfeld chuckled that the administration wants to experiment with as many as a dozen different missile defense systems. “To the extent they work, terrific, we’ll put more money behind them. To the extent they don’t, we’ll try to find a better way to do these things”

“People think, you know, ‘My goodness, they obviously have something in their heads that’s all firm and all fixed, and they’re going to suddenly pull open the curtain and there it is.’ Not true,” Rumsfeld said during a Pentagon news conference.

He should have added “There’s nothing in our heads but saving our precious bodily fluids.”

So face it, your tax dollars are going to this win or lose. or lose. or lose. Past expirements with missile defense have been less than deadly with missiles not reaching the target. Last December’s launching cost 90 million dollars and with a party atmosphere of defense bigwigs flying out to see the show it was the hottest ticket in KillTown. But the super secret,ultra- high security missile launch started with those greenpeace buttinskis rolling across the lawn in a golf cart with a dennouncing banner and jinxed the project from being a success. Back to the expensive Drawing Board. Might want to start with figuring out how to keep GreenPeace protestors out of your small earth missile range before you attempt the vast expanses of space, fellas.

In a major address last week, President Bush denounced the Anti-Ballastic Missile Treaty (ABM) as antiquated and vowed to fulfill his campaign promise to build a global missile shield. Rumsfeld yesterday spoke of how the policy (probably a simply worded poster with stick figure pictures) will be given to the scores of countries that have shown grave concerns that the administration wants to do away with the ABM Treaty because it’s the one weak hope they have that they wont be blown to smithereens.

“There is no question but that the ABM Treaty has prevented research and development and testing and experimentation with a host of things . . . and that is the subject of the consultations that are taking place,” Rumsfeld said.

“Consultations” meaning they are patting them on the head like children after a nightmare and soothingly saying “you don’t want us to cut off all this foreign aid do youuuuu?”

Dumbass foreigners anyway, you really think some jihad’ing arab is going to hurl himself into space with a bomb on his back? Sure, they would if they *could* but alot of these terrorists are still mastering the fine details of using a flashlight.

When Rumsfeld went before the Senate Armed Services Committee, Sen. Pat Roberts (R-Kan.) asked , “What keeps you up at night?” Rumsfeld gave his menacing know-it-all grin and said “The importance of considerably improving our intelligence capabilities so that we know more about what people think and how they behave and how their behavior can be altered and what the capabilities are in this world.”

wow, can we do that from space? I thought that’s what the men in black and Scientologist were for.

People, there are energy crises from coast to coast of this country, the air is foul, the water is poison, and the republicans are back in office, many of them have served in office starting from Nixon (how old are these people!) and they know how to clear cut a forest and slant drill the fields. They know how to get you to believe that we need to spend billions on un-renewable sources of fuel that they can control the price. They get you to just not care how you get your heat and run your car. Solar energy and alternative fuel cars have been around for a long long time and you could implement this nationwide with a fraction of what it takes to launch a few test missiles that have yet to work in any test that have been performed.

Every single one of you need to really think about what you want this country to focus on. Wars in Space or Peace on Earth? It’s your money, folks, and I don’t want to hear one peep out of you when the lights are out and your bill is triple what it was a year ago.

The Old Testament term for communicating with the dead is “necromancy” (Deuteronomy 18:11, also read verse 10). It is forbidden by God: “There shall not be found among you… For whoever does these things is detestable to the Lord” (an “abomination, KJV).
Also see: 1 Samuel 28:3-20; 2 Chronicles 10:13, 14; Isaiah 8:19-22. The punishment for contacting the dead is very severe, if not repented of.

Have a talk with your friends and family about death. It is inevitable that death is going to happen and could be a great relief to tell people that no matter what circumstances occur (perhaps a fight, forgetting to yell I love you when you last saw them living) they will be loved, remembered and you will meet again. Tell them it’s ok to keep on going into the light and not to worry about you on earth and linger. Loving your dear ones right NOW is the best way of knowing you shared a wonderful earth incarnation and can go on to the next adventure.

I’ve seen the “Crossing Over” show from time to time with John Edwards. He talks to the dead and is supposedly stamped with a few University paranormal departments seal of approval. It’s a fluffy li’l entertainment piece that could benefit from a few bent spoons and a tamborine floating in the air. A woman who was left in a terrible financial state at her husbands demise wanted to tell him the dog doesn’t sleep and asked if he had stopped smoking. For heavens sake you welfare dumbshit, ask him for some winning lotto numbers!

I turned on “Survivor” which has much better taunting potential and forgot about the dead accept how I wished they all were.

But a few weeks letter I received an email from a shaken Rosaic who had just had another dream of the End Times. Rosaic has been correct in so many visions that I always give them top priority and much creedence.
with her permission I reprint her dream of the dead:

Rosaic’s Dream/Nightmare:
I was in the backyard, Ed and I had only been married a few days before and were planning on going for a Sedona Honeymoon in a few days.
But electronics and telephones were breaking worldwide, television was being taken over by “talking static” and we felt we had better stay put and see what was going on. Ed was going to go out and get us something for the trip and I begged him not to go but all of a sudden he was gone. I called the cellphone number and it was a party line of voices. Human voices and then there were voices that were anything but. Discordant, using all energy to get through but the more people talked back to them the stronger they became. I knew the veil of here and there was being breached and those on the other side were getting stronger, the vibrations of transmissions through television and phone lines were a rich conduit for entry. The air went cold and stale, the sky was darkening and screams the likes of which I have never heard accept on real life programs of women calling 911 as they were being beaten to death were so loud and reverberate that I could feel every syllable being tormented out of them in my bones.
Fearing terribly for Ed’s safety I got on my bike and rode to the store he would have been headed for. The streets had turned into chaos and bloody, brutal death. The dead were indeed back, and they had become so attuned with earth energy that they were barely discernable from their thug earth friends who they were sucking off of. I saw people ripped limb from limb, the cheers and glee from the living and dead hooligans was orgiastic.
The sky darkened more and the usual sign I have always had in previous visions, the palm of jesus in the sky, appeared, every line, every detail was visible. I knew it was time to go to the safe place. But where was my new husband? There was no way he could have survived this slaughter and I was thinking if I should find his body or become one myself when..honest to God, Buck, this is funny but I’m not making it up, Ed showed up in a bright red semi truck, biggest thing I have ever seen. He helped me up and as I was getting in he pointed out the picture of Art Bell he had attatched to the door and said that this would keep us safe til we got to where we were going. We drove away, I woke up extremely shaken, I’m still shaking. Don’t talk to the Dead, Buck! Tell everybody you know, this is not real, this is not good! The only ones coming back are the ones so filled with hate they weren’t allowed anywhere else and the stupid ones just follow the others.

I took this very seriously.

Then within the next few weeks my attention was drawn to just how many books, shows, and articles are being devoted to talking with the dead! The kicker came when the folks at Astrobella sent me the article about The Univerisity of Arizona conducting experiments of talking to the deceased. This is going on right now.
“A series of experiments at the University of Arizona has produced evidence that researchers say could indicate that some “mediums” might indeed be able to communicate with the dead.” (full article availabe by clicking on the link in the right column)

The Dead know alot. What else do they have to do but try to contact us and tell us what we want to know? And who knows the information flow where they are at? If the Akashic Records are real, a filing system of every deed, thought, belch, scratch, ever done by something living, everything that has ever happened on the earth and beyond is recorded and is freely accessible to those within reach, if this is true then any deviant spirit too hate filled to go on, or any complete idiot who was too stupid to see a big white light to go into, has access.
Consider how bored these entities are, and any bit of energy that comes their way is grabbed and gives them strength in this realm.

It’s alot like calling a New York payphone outside the subway and whoever answers you say “Is this My dead husband, Pete?” Chances are about 99 out of 100 hundred that they will indeed be Pete and ready to chat on your dime.
I believe this is just what happens when people are talking to the dead.

Now I don’t want to take away any bit of relief a grieving loved one gets by being assured that the darling departed are ok. Losing someone is the toughest thing a human can endure and hearing that the loved ones are fine is a great consolation.

But questions come to mind.

Why has this person not travelled on? Somebody who passed in 1949 is still hanging around ready for his Q&A ? Maybe the spirit, the energy is only that of the persona last left behind, maybe the soul has already reincarnated a few times. Maybe the dead are talking to themselves 50 years from now! Can you be a complete soul while travelling back and forth between heaven and earth? Is that not just for angels anymore?

I do not believe we are talking to who we think we are talking to. I think we are talking to hungry parasites looking for a host and there are far too many people willing to roll out the guest bed.

Folks, stop this. We only bridge the way for entities that want only what they wanted on earth. Base, disturbed, violent, stupid, entities that are between worlds and looking to get back in. Ignore the dead! Rebuke the dead. Or at the very least, for Christ’s Sake, ask them for the damn Super Lotto numbers.

I’m very interested in all of your thoughts on this subject and would appreciate you dropping me a line. The dead need not apply.

Ed, Rosaic and I like to do a sweatlodge trance channel right before the Winter Solstice to see if we need to head underground for New Year’s Destruction or continuing decking the halls and flocking the hogs. so to speak. This year was a pleasent get-together at the J&B Family Restaurant in Prescott, AZ and afterwards we drove under a UFO free desert sky to a Sacred Spot in Sedona aptly called “Blanca Dinero Hot Springs Sacred Spot”. You can’t miss it off of Highway 89-A since they bought an old Indian Casino neon billboard. You mostly can’t see Bill Cosby’s face anymore on it since they put the big kokopelli on an Aztec chocolate bar in the shape of a sundial. (Get the sweatlodge in the back for those of you who can read auras or else you’ll see nothing but red from the sign and diagnose everybody with constipation and repressed father issues.) We passed around the ancient tribal drinking cup that was two parts Fresca, one part liquid peyote, and 100 percent red man majick. After the initial “laughing” gateway experience to the other side we waited for one of us to contact the Elder Guide who would tell us of the coming year. Rosaic spoke of “riding the pink pig” through her animal totem but given her latest Oliver Platt infatuation we dismissed it. I spoke through a 14 year old indian girl coming into the full fruit of womanhood but was unable to get the full message and feel my new, young breasts at the same time. Finally after another round of dream potion Ed contacted the Elder guide and gave us our message. None of us can quite figure it out but it is our duty as journalists and pro-human advocates to pass it on to you in hopes that you can glean the meaning and enrich your lives.
We still don’t know if we are going underground or not. Maybe Vegas.

as channeled by Ed:

the city of the dead sleeps
while Art Bell Jr weeps
and Art Sr takes a leak
ask not for whom the urine flows
it flows for all of us
splashing through the sewers beneath Parumph
flowing under whorehouses where cattlemen hump
mingles with the circle K clerk’s dump
later he will stick the tanks
and vomit up the mad dog he drank
but we decide which is real booze
and which provides real absolution
-the moody booze

Cassie Bernal may not have jutted her perky breasts out and proclaimed proudly “YES” to the question “Do you believe in God?” that Dylan Kebold asked her while pointing a gun in her face April 20, 1999 at Columbine High School. This would greatly reduce sales of the book “She Said Yes: the Unlikely Martyrdom of Cassie Bernall, by Missy Bernal, the mother.

Three unamed students are sticking to their story that the incident happened according to Chris Zimmerman, editor of The Plough Publishing House book, but Emily Wyant, 16, who was crouched under a table less than 2 feet from Bernall, said she never heard Klebold ask Cassie if she believed in God.

As with any tragedy there is money to be made and if you can recoup the losses of dead daughter who will be able to pay off the BMW in death why not? String together enough “evidence” of a high cabal reason for why those two kids went off the deep end and you have a shot on Hard Copy and Maury Povich for anniversary shows well into the next decade. You can use the “Hitler’s Birthday” as a sign they were Nazi’s, even though both Klebold and Harris were Jewish, and that they killed 13 people was a sure sign of satan, you have a far more entertaining read than two loner idiots got tired of snobs and life and the sinking suspicion that Rammstein was gayer than Rob Halford in a tutu.

Did Cassie and Klebold have this deadly exchange of ideology? I wasn’t there and that’s the only way I’m ever convinced of anything being true. If I had been there in the mythical circumstances I tell you what ol’ Buck would do. Some punk points his gun in my face and asks if I believe in God I’m going to say “nah, I’m a nihilist paratheologist into the existential Alexandrian methods of playing “Quake’”. When the little bastard is appeased that I’m one of them, I pull out my boot knife and let him find out about god by himself, then use what I can of his tiny virgin body as a shield for the other kid with a gun who I beat to death with his friend. And then I’m alive and kicking for another day of doing the lords work, not having my mommy write a snivelling fool book about how I wanted a leather jacket and that was my path to heroin and Baphomet before I found God and stared down the barrel of a gun til my eyes were in the back of a library without my head.

While watching “Space Ghost” the other night there was what I first thought was a goof commercial for a Barbie Doll. The overblown hair and Dachau waistline are d’rigeur and hardly worth being shocked over. It was Barbie’s eyes that caught my attention. Big globes of cock-eyed, unfocused, narcotized confusion set in a face that said “I don’t know and I don’t care.” “Glazed Over Barbie”, “Way Out of It Barbie”, “Being treated for Depression Barbie” would have been appropriate names for this piece of plastic with boobs and I waited for the punchline. There was none, this was a real commercial selling toys to our young daughters. (and perhaps boys but I don’t want to think about that now) The commercial ended and so did my interest. Until I saw an article the very next morning in the London Times about our water supply being possibly at risk from the thousands of pounds of drugs being excreted by the world wide bladders of humanity everyday. Prescription narcotics for anxiety, heart disease, high blood pressure, and particularly depression were high on the list of drugs that can go practically unaltered through the human body and into rivers, streams, and oceans. The serotonin raising drugs in particular, already blamed for killing off jillions of aquatic microbial life, are of grave concerns for many scientists who are not on a Chemical company payroll and can still be objective and probing in their work. Of course, these scientists don’t have the huge amount of dollars to do any kind of reasonable research, so they don’t really have anything substantial to say. “Just about everything people put into their mouth eventually gets into the water,” quipped Dr Christian Daughton, chief of environmental chemistry for the US Environmental Protection Agency. He learned that through science college. I learned that through outside plumbing in Colorado my first 11 years of life.

Now you are saying “Buck, get back to the Barbie doll boobies”. I’ll get back to her doper face…. In light of everybody soon to be on the serotonin highway to happiness via your tap water (and don’t think that bottled water is going to save you. Have you ever really investigated what gets filtered out of bottled water? very, very little) it’s going to be advantageous to get ready for a socially acceptable level of droop-eyed, slack-jawed, zombie’izm, and we are going to have to offer up more reinforcement than kite-high Farrah’s on Letterman. Television and movies are still run by Betty Ford graduate’s who are programmed to target and point out a whacko Minnelli at fifty paces. And the new crop of twenty something greedsters coming up have Nancy Reagan still ringing in their ears “Just say no” . The new age has told us all to take responsibility for our every illness and that depression is our own fault, we don’t need drugs we need to get rid of our stinkin’ thinkin’. Years and years of one faction or the other decrying the use of drugs has never stopped anybody one bit from running to the doctors and getting a prescription. (who *isn’t* on some prescription these days?) We will take and take and take anything we can get our hands to make us feel better. But we sure dont’ want anybody to know about it. We try to hide that “look”. That look that says “I needed a li’l help on this stumbling block of life”. That Barbie doll look. And as more and more of us get “the look” we’ll need to have the acceptance of the masses to not call for an immediate boycott of all prescription drugs It’s imparitive for the drug companies to have total “I don’t know and I don’t care” acceptance. Because unless Pfeizer and Upjohn and the lot start treating your nature calls like plutonium and bag it and bury it in the desert, which would be one hell of a dent in the profits, somebody is going to make enough noise to put the brakes on toxic urine and it’s causes (if there is anybody left sober enough to do such a thing but that’s a whole other chapter that could be entitled “Trilateral Commision meets the Masons underground in Munich”).

“Fix the dang sewers, Buck!” Can’t. What we have now is woefully inadequate to keep a head size rat out. The only thing keeping you from typhoid is chlorine. Lots and lots of chlorine. but it doesn’t affect the drug run-off. (Flouride is a drug by the way. Flouride, intentionally added to your water. YOU voted to have it added to your water. You think you are preventing cavities but you are ingesting a drug that is classified as a depressant. A sedated populace is a happily controlled populace. The insurance companies only gave up cavity revenue in exchange for 201 cures for cancers being suppressed) Nope, we are all taking the bullet-train to Lobotomy River and going in for a dip. Barbie’ism will grab each and everyone who does not have their own water filtration specifically designed to get out these drugs. And nobody knows what gets out these drugs. So take a good look at Barbie’s face. Aquaint yourself, brace yourself for “the look” of the future. Today.